late nights and hotel rooms
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Part of a traveling orchestra, Kumiko and Reina decide to do something spontaneous.


**a/n:** i'm very angry about recent developments regarding the year two novel but the fic about that won't be posted for a little while yet, so have this instead

* * *

Kumiko set down her bags in the hotel room with Reina just a few steps ahead of her.

"It's . . . nice," she finally said with a sigh, flopping onto the one bed they'd offered. Reina followed suit. "There's a TV, at least."

"Frankly, with the day I've had, I'd be content sleeping under a bridge," Reina chuckled, shrugging off her jacket as she faced the window. "Are the others alright with where they are?"

"You mean the rest of the whole band? Y-yeah, I think they're doing alright. Yuuko wouldn't give us crappy rooms if she could help it."

"I pity the poor soul who has to room with her."

"Oh, god, you're right." Kumiko tested the mattress - springy and soft, but not so much that she'd sink into it or fly off in the middle of the night. "Hey, do you remember in our first year, when Natsuki gave her that leaning cake thing?"

"How could I forget?"

"I guess in hindsight, it's no wonder they broke up, huh?" Kumiko spun the ring on her finger, taking comfort in the feeling of it. She'd grown used to doing that. "They're doing well, though."

"Separately."

"Separately," Kumiko echoed as she leaned on Reina, just a little, just enough to give her some warmth in the drafty air of the hotel room. "What now?"

"What do you mean? We have another show to play tomorrow, we're already checked in-"

"I mean, right now. Do you want to, uh, watch TV or something?"

"I don't see anything wrong with that." Reina, still facing the window, pulled off her shirt as promptly as she'd done in her youth. Kumiko let out a squeak.

"You have to stop doing that!" she yelped. "W-what if someone saw you or something?"

"I think I'm fine, Kumiko." Reina pulled her nightgown from the suitcase that lay at her feet, and Kumiko looked away out of habit, looking at the ornate wooden door that seemed to contrast with the plainness of the rest of the room.

* * *

"I've missed this. Just . . . us, sitting here, watching bad daytime television." Reina ran her fingers through Kumiko's curls, and it would have been a lie to say that either girl was really watching whatever soap had ended up on the grainy screen. No, they were enamored with each other, a tangle of limbs and warmth and the whole universe could have fallen away for all they'd have cared, as long as they could keep sitting here like this.

"Have you ever thought of running away?" The sky had long since gone dark, the lights turned off and the only source of brightness coming from the television, but for how well Kumiko knew the woman next to her, the sunlight might as well have been blasting through the window.

"Hmm?"

"Y'know, like we used to talk about." Kumiko wrapped her hand around Reina's fist, slowly uncurling it so that they were intertwined again. Reina leaned into her, so that their faces were just inches away from each other - rosemary and brass, that familiar scent, drifted through the room. "We'd . . . we'd only take the clothes on our backs and some money to make sure we had a place to stay." Reina flipped over on her back, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, and Kumiko did the same.

"You can see it, can't you?" Reina murmured, closing her eyes. "You've thought about this a lot?"

"Kinda." Kumiko wondered if Reina could see the stars in her eyes as she continued. "N-nobody would know our names. We'd just be strangers - not names on a pamphlet or Kitauji alums, just . . . us. Kumiko and Reina. Reina and Kumiko. Two girls running wild in the countryside, sleeping on trains, living out some sort of fantasy."

"I suppose I'm at least partially at fault for that." Reina pulled her legs to her chest. "I've always wanted to do that, if you want the truth."

"But you can't," Kumiko whispered, defeated, but not surprised.

"I love this - the orchestra, the sights we see . . ." Reina paused, kneading the mattress with her palm. ". . . you. I love it too much to give it up for something we dreamed about as teenagers."

"Well, you have me whenever you want to do something crazy again."

"Why not now?"

"What?" Reina sat up, the bed creaking beneath her as she did so.

"It's not too late, right now. The show isn't until noon tomorrow. We can do something."

"Reina, it's okay." Kumiko twiddled her thumbs before Reina pulled her to her feet. "W-we're older now, it's fine if you don't-"

"I do." Reina had already started for the door, still in her pajamas, and Kumiko had no choice but to follow. It was cold outside, a little bit windy and cloudy, but the two girls ran out to the courtyard before they knew what they were doing. Water trickled from a stone fountain, shut off for the night, and as Kumiko picked Reina up in her arms and spun her around, with her chest pounding and with the gravel crunching beneath her feet, Kumiko thought she'd perhaps never feel quite as alive as she did in that moment.

* * *

"This is nice, too." Curled up under the covers, Reina pressed next to her, Kumiko felt so wonderfully warm despite the chilly weather outside and the drafty room. "Just . . . us, y'know?"

"I know." Reina's hair tickled Kumiko's nose, but she didn't mind. "We should probably get to sleep soon. Tomorrow's . . . a big . . . _snf."_ She was out like a light before even finishing her sentence. Kumiko chuckled, listening to the rise and fall of Reina's chest, and soon she, too, was far away in a world beyond her own.

In their dreams, Kumiko and Reina ran through fields of yellow flowers, red string wrapped around their fingers, and they could just keep going like that forever, until the sun and the stars burned out and they were all that was left.

* * *

 **a/n:** i've written a lot of angst post-canon fics where kumiko and reina had a falling out and lost touch so i wanted to do something that was...not that.


End file.
